Weiss
by Cinerarium
Summary: Someone gets Harry out of the Dursleys before Hogwarts and he grows up knowing a completely different world where he can be almost anything. He learns politics, life and how to survive. Powerful!Harry. slash & child abuse.
1. escape

Disclaimer: JK owns Harry Potter, not me.

_There's a place in the world for the angry young man._

-

Screaming. Thrashing. Jerking. Blood. So much blood. On his Harry's stomach and his legs, in his head. Uncle Vernon has a wicked grin on his face and his fists are large and pound into his gut ten times harder than the boys at school.

He likes the way the boy writhes and slithers about on the ground because he's too hurt, too numb to move properly. To try to escape.

Harry rolls and burns on the rough carpet below him, breathing, breathing and still alive.

-

Dudley leaves his toy soldiers behind in the dirt sometimes. If Harry's lucky enough when Aunt Petunia sends him out to garden he'll find one or two and slip them into his pocket. He hides them under broken planks in the floor boards of the cupboard.

No one's found them yet. And Dudley has so many he hasn't noticed any were missing. Harry would notice if he had toys like that, he'd give every single one a name and a place in his mind.

He's named the four under his floor boards. Each carefully thought out.

Cyrus because Aunt Petunia once said she would've loved to have a boyfriend by such a name, she claimed it sounded exotic and found the meaning, sun, to be very meaningful. Harry chose it for the one that melted a bit under the hot ultraviolet rays.

George because it was a solid, good name. He wished his name was solid. Good. Worth something.

Riley because the way it sounded on his tongue was smooth and cute. Like a good child should be.

James because it was his father's name. His voice grew deeper, like Uncle Vernon's and he tried to act the part of an angry drunk. That was all he knew of his father.

But the other three like James, anyway. Harry knows he would.

-

He still rolls and burns and he's still alive.

Wait –

"Harry." Someone is in his cupboard? How can they fit? He turns, lips parted and trembling to face this someone. The first thing he really notices about Cordelia is her eyes. They're large, the first ring of her iris is gold, powerful and bright and the inner ring is apple green, knowledgeable and just slightly haunted.

At first glance he's scared but he likes her and knows her. She's safe. She must be.

"Who are you?" He asks, too loud because his ear drums are a little broken. The woman comes forward and gives him a soft smile,

"I'm going to get you out."

Ohhhh. Harry doesn't thrash when she grabs his hand and tugs him along. He just follows.

-

Cordelia teaches him many things in her slowest voice, brushing the hair off his face and staring deep, deep into his soul. She doesn't coddle him like a baby and she leaves him on his own. This is necessary for survival, he's realized.

Besides the fact that she's often busy what with her being something of a goddess in most creatures' eyes. Yes, there are creatures. Yes, there is magic. This he's been taught. And Cordelia is the center of the universe. La Reina.

-

At night Cordelia holds him and whispers meaningless words into his ear, stroking his wild hair. But (of course) she is gone in the morning and Harry takes care of himself.

Maybe he likes it that way.

He makes himself breakfast each time, nothing big. His stomach can't take it. It's only grown to the size of a small rubber ball, maybe cream or peach-colored like the organs he's seen in books.

Then, he promptly falls back asleep. When he wakes up there's someone beside him, rocking him back and forth and smiling. Slowly, slowly his voice begins to clear. Cordy has him read (sometimes, even aloud) – and he likes to.

So much, he runs to the library after breakfast sometimes. After the beginning. He reads. And so he learns more.

-

He begins to understand after a while. And it makes him hate himself even more, those fits in his sleep. Harry loves Cordelia more than life – but she says he must love himself first.

He is six when she first teaches him the rules of survival, her hand cupping his chin so he can feel that even her bony digits fluctuate with power.

And he understands a lot of things most children should not. Harry knows abuse, hurt, mistrust and starvation. They used to be his closest friends. If he learns anything, though, he learns to survive.

-

"Now, Harry – remember you're very unique. You have powers beyond that of the Wizards."

The wizards. He's a wizard and he doesn't like it, he doesn't like them. But he'll use it to his advantage. Wizards are so contained in their stick-wielding world they don't realize how intelligent and inventive mortals (or do they call them muggles?) are. Nuclear and hydrogen bombs, pistols, telephones and computers.

Harry knows mortals. They have their own magic.

Cordelia says he's different from the other wizards. That he's not "just a wizard". But she doesn't explain until his seventh birthday.

-

"Blood magic."

He blinks up at his guardian's marble face, furrowing his black brows in question. "I don't understand. What's blood magic?"

"You. You are blood magic." Cordelia grabs his arm and flips it up so he can see the inky purple veins by his wrist. "You're what we call a minuomancer – someone who has the power to create magic through his blood. At first you will need access to your own blood, carrying a dagger and the like. But after you get the hang of it you'll be able to perform your magic without mutilating yourself at all."

Harry stares past her. "A minuomancer?" She nods.

"How do I replenish my blood, Cordy? What if I don't have any left?" A bad feeling swam in the pit of his stomach.

"Hmmm. You just use your magic to replenish it." She answered simply with a twitch of her lips. "Now, let's go into the city."

She takes him down the road from the castle. Their castle. He likes thinking like that in his head.

They stop at a strange-looking shop and find their way inside. Cordy's eyes dart back and forth. "Here." She reaches forward to pick up an emerald snake with black triangles down its spine.

He blinks, confused when she drops the creature in his small hands. But then when the snake slithers upright in front of his face he knows. The too light eyes of the animal look right through him.

"Minuomancer." The snake hisses quietly.

"I –" Harry turns to Cordelia. "Parstlemouth? Minumancer?" She nods. "Try snake-speaker. Most wizard terms make snakes uncomfortable."

He smirks, "So you're a reptile?"

\ Cordelia smacks the top of his head. Then, she pays for the snake. "Name him. You're going to be bonded with him after all."

"Bonded? Why?" She shrugs. "I don't know. It's the only way blood magic works, though."

Harry stares at the snake and it's emerald and black scales. "Noir. Noir…e. Noire." He says softly. Noire seems to frown. "Thank you, minuomancer, for that wonderful mispronunciation." The wizard rolls his eyes.

-

Author's notes: This is going to be a multi-chapter fic. I'm guessing oh, say 30 chapters with a sequel (or three)? It may be moving pretty fast now but that's because this is just to explain Harry's early life to you. He'll go to Hogwarts eventually, third year or so, I'm thinking. Don't worry, I've already got the story planned out in my head.

He will become stronger than any wizard although, certainly not all creatures. For those of you who don't like Superpower!Harry.

Oh and, you pronounce Noire – No-Are-Ay

And Minuomancer – Min-yo-man-sir.

: D Review, please?


	2. who am i?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. However I do own Cordelia, Peter and Noire. :

**I let the centipedes crawl through my arteries.**

(oOo)

who am i?

(oOo)

There is a boy. A 16 year old. His hair is dark. Darker than Harry's. He needs a place to stay, he tells Harry from the other side of the bakery counter. The-boy-who-lived is eight.

His name is Tom. Something about him makes Harry shiver – the faux smiles. But he didn't dislike him. Noire did.

They reach the castle and Tom is blinking up at it in obvious confusion. "This…is where you live?"

Harry eyes him carefully. "Um, yeah?" He pulls the front door open and holds it for the other boy. As soon as they are inside Cordelia is raising and eyebrows, sweeping her eyes over the alien figure. "Mind telling me who this is?"

"Cordy, this is Tom. He, uh, needs a place to stay."

The gold of her eyes stare hard at Tom in a way Harry recognizes as intimidating. Cordelia threads her fingers through her hair, tugging on the ends. "Tom." She lets the name roll on her tongue.

"Tom what?"

Tom blinks at her, "Riddle."

Harry's guardian makes a small "uhhn" sound in the back of her throat, stopping in her movements. "Would you happen to realize you're the wrong time, Mr. Riddle? Provided your memories.." She asks softly, smoothly.

He sucks his cheeks in and nods. "Fifty years or so. I just need a place to stay until I can get back to my ti-"

"No. There's already a Tom Riddle in the past for there is one in the future who has yet to seek us out. Well, not Tom Riddle, specifically I do believe he calls himself…" She snorts, "Lord Voldemort."

Tom swallows heavily. "So where did I come from?" His tone is colder.

Cordy smiles. "I believe you are familiar with the horcrux? It would seem your future self left you in one. I'm guessing you're the less cruel side of him. Dark but not stark raving mad about all that mudblood shit. Someone must've destroyed the horcrux and you slithered on out."

His lips part. "Oh. That's…interesting. I suppose I would be the less-biased more intelligent side." He says with a lidded haze. "I.." He seems at a loss of words.

"You will stay?" Cordy asks curiously, ruffling Harry's hair.

He looks confused. "Pardon?"

And he does. Stay, that is.

(oOo)

"But think about it, Potter. I killed your parents – tried to kill you when you were just a baby. You don't care?" Tom asks incredulously, leaning against a bookcase in the library and staring down at Harry with furrowed brows.

"You're not him. You're Tom, not Voldemort. I – you're just not him the way I see it. You aren't." Harry looks up from his book frowning. "Besides, it's not as if I ever really knew my parents. Well, I don't remember them, anyway."

"What about the Dursleys? I'm the reason you grew up in a cupboard, the reason you can barely stomach a meal and will probably never be quite alright, you're so awkward and – " "I don't care.

"I'm fine with my past, Tom. If my parents suddenly turned up I would have no idea how to act around them. In fact, I'm sure I'd prefer the Dursleys to that. I understand them. And if Voldemort hadn't killed my parents I'd never have met Cordelia. Or Noire. The Dursleys may not have been nice –"

Tom snorts. "-nice but I love Aunt Petunia. It was a good experience. I could've grown up spoiled a-a-and you know. Not like me at all. I've always been messed up, Tom. If it was that important we wouldn't be here having this conversation."

The older boy smiles at him. "I think I wouldn't want to stay if you weren't the same."

(oOo)

Ten. Double digits. He'd learned how to take out your average Dark Lord. There's so much more to learn but he knows a lot. More than any other ten year old would. Should, in some opinions.

He is power. Raw power. And this is good.

"Cordelia." He prompts, holding Tom's still-wrapped gift in his lap.

She looks down at him gently, "Hm?" "I think I'm ready to go out there." Cordy blinks, confusedly. "To survive. Without this house and your guidance. I-I need to learn how to deal with things on my own. Even without magic. So I get stronger. Otherwise I have no doubt I will never be able to make it against a gigantic army of dark creatures and wizards."

She exhales, gazing at him in quiet contemplation. "I see. I trust you. You can do whatever you like, Harry so long as you bring that snake of yours. But I can't say I won't wake up and miss you more than anything each morning."

He grins shyly at her, grabbing her hand. "You should go to the states to see your brother."

Cordelia raises her eyebrows. "He'll be wondering where you are, that one." "So tell him." "Alright."

"Just like that?" He hears Nore hiss.

"Yeah, Noire you should know Cordy by now." Harry replies. His snake hmphs.

"You'll go at the end of the week?" She asks, wiggling her nose. Harry shrugs. "I guess. I'll be gone a while and leaving, you know – I shouldn't prolong it."

Cordelia nods.

"I'm coming. My first loyalty and interest is to you, Harry, no matter how fun the states may seem." Tom says, staring straight at Harry with his dark eyes. They look at each other for another moment before the younger boy smiles.

(oOo)

"I love you, Cordelia. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you." Harry clutches her white tank top with shaky hands, wetting the top of it.

She grasps his chin in her fingers and presses her lips to his forehead. "I know, silly boy. I love you, too."

(oOo)

Harry works hard in Paris as a 21 year old female. He has learned how to shape shift and take the forms of others. It isn't as hard as it seems when Tom first suggests it. But Tom suggests the wizard way which Noire immediately hisses at.

His job is in the wizarding world, regardless. He figures he needs to learn as much about it was he can, considering he is one and a politically important one at that. Tom says they will come for him sometime. The only reason they haven't yet is because they don't know where he is.

The advantage of growing up with Cordelia and not the Dursleys. In all honesty Tom teaches him enough but enough? He needs more. If he's ever going to face the wizarding world he will not have Cordy at his side and he will need to know all of the ways a wizard may be able to defeat him.

When he explains this to Tom, the older boy coughs and mumbles something that sounds like Voldemort. He knows potions, transfiguration, ancient runes, magical creatures, sports, culture and more. He's forced to sit about with his co-workers as they jabber on about this and this at the ministry and the wizarding schools they've gone to.

Harry works hard in Chicago with Tom. They stick to the mortal world this time around because both Harry and Noire prefer it and they've realized they can garner a lot of information from libraries and books.

He holds Tom and Noire close to his heart, no matter the city.

(oOo)

The Andersons are Harry's neighbors in Pittsburgh, they live across the way in apartment 224 and have three preteen boys.

Harry is twelve and a bit taller with his quiet mouth and loud eyes. Tom pretends to be his father so the landlady doesn't wonder, but all in all neither of them have to work much. The younger boy usually sits inside the apartment with books scattered around him, absorbing as much as he can. He has to physically perform what he learns, though, whether it be through blood magic, his makeshift wand or his mind.

Noire admonishes him on this. Children should not spend all of their time inside training for the apocalypse. When Harry replies that he is not and has never been a child the snake drops it.

On a Tuesday in April Harry pockets five dollars and heads out to buy himself lunch. Tom is working for once.

The three Anderson boys are standing by their door and their eyes are full of mischief. Hoping to avoid them, he turns to head down the stairs but one of them stops him. "Come on, kid. Play hide and seek with us."

His brows furrow. "I don't think I should." They give him pleading looks in return. "Besides, I don't know how."

Noire twists around his waist, stirring in his sleep.

"Aw, it won't take that long. It's easy to play, too. You just hide so no one can find you." The oldest boy says, grinning so his missing tooth shows. Harry has fortunately gained all of his adult teeth. "I.."

They tug on his too-big shirt. "We never get to play with anyone else. Come on."

He bites his lip. "Okay." All three give smiles of excitement simultaneously. "Yes!" One turns to the wall, suddenly, and covers his eyes with his hands. "One…two…"

The oldest boy grabs Harry and the other Anderson child and starts to run, pulling them along. "Don't worry, Nick counts slow." He stops and furrows his brows in concentration. "Alright, you get in there." He points to the janitor's closet. "Me and Bill will get into the men's room up there."

Harry nods quietly.

Flashing him one more grin the two disappear. The dark-haired boy turns back to the closet, slowly twisting the knob. Inside it is dark. He curls in a corner, pulling his knees up to his chin and peeking out over them at the broom and mop he can barely make out.

There's a spider on the broom handle, crawling up and up and up.

He rubs his brow, staring at the walls and the blackness. It feels like the closet is getting smaller and smaller, like a box. The world is closing in and the shadows are popping their mouths open, preparing to swallow him. His throat feels swollen, he can't breath or think and he is going to die.

The ceiling is too low and it is going to crush his tiny body – he's going to vomit. He starts to cry, he knows because the tears are hot spilling down his cheeks. Choke. Scream. This is beginning to feel like the cupboard, like the Dursleys coming back to torture him.

Cordy, Tom, Noire – freedom, they were all a dream. Now he'll wake up and bleed all over his decrepit sheets. He'll cook breakfast and weed the garden and play punching bag for Dudley and his gang.

He's yelling now but no one comes. The walls are glaring at him like Aunt Petunia's eyes, wishing he'd shut up and get this all over with. Nononononono.

The door bursts open and light hits his eyes and he trembles, reaching toward the hallway floor. "Harry? Harry are you alright?" It's Tom who pulls him out of the closet and cuddles him into his chest. "Shhh." He rocks him slowly on his knees.

Harry clutches his shirt, whimpering and shaking in the aftermath of his panic attack.

"Fuck." Tom closes his eyes and tilts his head toward the ceiling, cupping the back of the smaller boy's head. "What did they do to you? Why you?" He whispers.

One of the boys is staring down at them with side eyes. "Wh-what's wrong with him?" Tom reckons they won't be sticking around Pittsburgh much longer. He covers his face with a hand to hide his pained expression. "He's claustrophobic."

(oOo)

When Harry has finally fallen asleep Tom massages his temples as he sits on the couch. He can still taste the salt of the minuomancer's tears on his bottom lip. Tokm lowers himself onto his back, pressing his finger pads to his eyelids.

He has stayed sixteen physically. His body has not changed and he doubts it ever will. After all, he is only born from memory and memory cannot be changed, it can only be added to. Of course he remembers each of Harry's smiles and the brittle of his bones.

A hissing starts him out of his reverie. He turns to see Noire slithering along the carpet floor and lets the snake wind up his leg. "I was under the impression you disliked me." Tom speaks softly, worry still absolute in the back of his head.

The snake hmphs with antipathy, making himself comfortable in Tom's lap. "I trust you, wizard. Especially with Harry." Tom hums in thought. "He's shaking in his sleep." Noire continues. "Let me sleep here."

The half-blood nods, chuckling and moving to make room for him.

They do leave. If only because every time Harry steps into the hallway he feels a sense of foreboding and has to train himself not to have flashbacks. Next comes New York, the big apple with its buildings the size of giants and flashing lights. There are people everywhere in the city.

People walk together, in large groups or alone. They may work or live in the city. Some people sell things like pretzels and nuts on corners. Harry and Tom glow up at the skyscrapers. "Cordy." Harry whispers first thing, clutching his suitcase to his chest.

His elder companion just smirks knowingly and plucks a piece of paper from his pocket. "I've already got her address. I'm way ahead of you, Harr."

Harry rolls his eyes.

(oOo)

Harry looks up at Tom and back to the door, raising a hesitant fist and knocking.

"One second!" A muffled voice calls in reply, sounding distinctly deeper than Cordelia's. "Well, her tone has changed." Noire hisses softly. Harry shakes his head. "It's voice, Noire, not tone." "You humans and your words."

The door is pulled open by a tall, lanky man with dark brown hair and glasses. "Errr, excuse me, can I help you?" He asks, looking down at the two males and their suitcases in evident bemusement.

"Hm, Peter? Who's at the door?" Cordelia comes up behind him. She looks the same, wearing a white sundress and wooden flats. Her grip on the soda in her hand loosens and the can nearly falls to the floor but she catches it in her other hand.

"Harry?" She shuffled Peter out of the way and tugs her two visitors inside. "Oh my God. You've gotten taller." Cordelia squeezes him tightly, kissing the crown of his head and burying her nose in his hair. There's an obvious grin in her voice as she asks, "How're you? How's Noire? Tom?" She turns her head to the older boy with a smile.

Tom bows his head a bit before cocking it toward Peter in question.

The blond seems to realize he is there. "Peter. These are my – how would you put it – foster brothers. This is Harry and this is Tom." Peter looks back and forth between them, a smile seeping onto his face.

"So, um, who's this?" Harry asks quietly.

Cordelia gives him a giant grin at this, tugging Peter forward by his tie and planting a kiss on his lips. "This is Peter, Harry-love. He's my clever boyfriend."

The skinny man blushes light pink, turning his face to the side and mumbling something incoherent.

"And he knows…about everything?" Harry questions with raised eyebrows.

"Well.." Cordy starts, glancing at the ceiling. "I suppose now _would _be a good time to explain it all." Peter looks even more confused than ever. "Cordelia, I don't quite follow." "Right." She opens her mouth and explains from the point where she was announced political ruler of all creatures some seven years ago.

(oOo)

Peter is at first overwhelmed but eventually slips into a comfortable presence around the apartment (and it is not something that is easy to take in Harry knows, thinking of his former, magic-less life). He is an extremely intelligent mortal, Tom often says, he graduated top of his class. They spend a lot of time together talking about ethics and the entire concept of wizard magic because they are the more scientifically curious of the group.

It is a little difficult to explain Noire and the idea of being a snake-speaker and minuomancer but eventually Cordy's boyfriend gets it.

They form a close-knit relationship together. All of them. It is an easy home life to ease into even if Harry visits the library and runs a job or two at the bakery down town during the week. Tom rather likes to just stay at home and dabble with Peter's computer, he finds it completely fascinating.

"Peter and I are going to a party later on this evening. I'd offer to have you and Tom come but I doubt either of you are interested. You're completely unsociable aside from each other." Cordelia comments, her hip jutting out to lean against the side of the doorway.

Harry bristles at this. "Tom and I talk to Peter and you all of the time." He pauses. "But I suppose you're right. Or at least, in my case." He turns back to his book.

The blond woman merely rolls her eyes before stepping through the doorway. "Well, do you think this looks as stunning as I do?" She sways a little, the fitted green fabric of her dress fluttering out.

"I'm not exactly the best person to ask.." Harry says sheepishly. "Noire?" He looks down at the snake coiled around his middle. Noire lets out a low hiss. "You need some jewelry to draw more attention to the color, Reina."

Cordy smiles wryly, "You have better fashion sense than any of us, Noire."

(oOo)

Tom sits comfortably on his bed, laptop on his knees and fingers pressing incessantly. He glances up at the sound of a door opening. Harry steps through the door, dripping wet from his shower. There's a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair is curled up at his neck.

"Oh, um, sorry Tom." His cheeks redden. "Would you mind…?"

The older boy shakes his head, closing the laptop and sliding off the bed. "No, it's fine. Just don't get your sheets all soaked." He winks, even though his heart is beating faster than he can ever remember.

Once he's out of the shared bedroom he takes a strong breath in and settles, lying on his back on the floor. The contours of Harry's chest and back flash through his mind. He groans and turns to rest on his side, staring at the dull blue carpet.

His member begins to throb beneath his legs as he lets the images he conjures of Harry flood through his mind. Harry is small and scarred and perfect. The fact that no one else could possibly make Tom's breath this erratic is so, so wrong.

This is wrong, he knows. But he can't help but indulge in his fantasies.

(oOo)

Harry sleeps.

(oOo)

_Quiet. All Harry can hear is quiet besides the painful beat of his tiny heart and the erratic breaths that leave his mouth. And as he stared deeper into the cracked ceiling he knew it won't be so quiet soon. Dudley, with his round cheeks and watery eyes, was still home. Dudley the eating machine people call a child _was still home

_There are already footsteps leading from the red and blue bedroom way up the staircase. Creak, creak on the steps, one foot after another, taunting Harry as they got closer and closer to the carpet that stretched all over dark wood and termites underneath. The creaking came to a halt. His heart was jumping from his ribcage like a salmon in rapids. _

_A hand curled around the hole through the cupboard door and yanked. There was no time to hide from the blond monster that slowly came into the pale light streaking from his window. "Hey freak, guess what?" _

"_Go away, Dudley!"_

"_Mum and dad aren't home. You know what that means, don't you – ARE THOSE MY ARMY MEN?" Dudley roared in a voice very much like an SST albeit boyish. "W-wait, I didn't mean to, it's just they were outside and – "_

_Harry felt a leech-like hand tighten around his upper arm, nearly crushing bone beneath the plump fingers. "ARE THOSE MY ARMY MEN?" He threw the smaller boy across the room furiously and picked up the nearest piece of furniture. The dark-haired child's back made a sickening crack as it hit the wall. _

"_Yes." Harry whispered. Dudley came forwardwith the chair and growled, lower lips trembling as he looked back and forth between the toys and his cousin. He dropped the chair and pulled Harry forward so his neck was flung backward. Then, he grabbed a handful of the boy's hair and pulled with all his might, so he could feel the hair come out in between his fingers. _

"_It doesn't matter anyway…" "What – What are you going on about?" Harry smiled gently and turned his head to the side, so he could see the small men glinting by the glass window. "They like me better than you." He tucked his chin into his collarbone and lowered his eyebrows like he had a secret._

_Dudley narrowed his blue eyes and shoved Harry back against the wall. The younger cousin merely squeezed his eyes shut and made ready for some sort of punishment. "You freak. Mum and dad told me all about your parents – your genes." He laughed a low, fake sort of laugh, like he was trying to show off how cruel he was. "A little freak that's just skin and bones who makes my breakfast after I beat him up. Pathetic." _

"_I didn't know a word that large was in your vocabulary." Harry hissed through clenched teeth. He could live through some bruised ribs to see the look on Dudley's face. He probably would've received the same, anyway. The chair was in the fat boy's hands again and Harry ducked, begging whatever God may be up there that it wouldn't get anywhere near his head. Anything but brain damage. _

_Crash, the door to the cupboard nearly broke off as Aunt Petunia came running in, snatching the chair from Dudley's chubby fingers. "What do you think you're doing, Diddy? You could have killed him. Oh my. Oh my God." She pushed him out the door and into the kitchen, "Don't you ever, ever do that again, you understand me? The boy is a human being – you cannot hurt him like that." The little blond looked terribly unhappy, Harry saw as he peaked from the cupboard. "But he stole my army men!"_

_The only female in their family gave a sniff, "Yes, well, I'm not saying he isn't a disgrace to this household. I'm saying you can't do that. Dudley…no telly for a week."_

"_WHAT? ARE YOU JOKING?"_

_Aunt Petunia gave him a weary look, "I'm sorry, popkin, it's the only way I'll get through to you. Now, I have to go check on the boy – what if he's critically injured?" She bustled by and into the cupboard, eyeing him with disinterest. _

"_Right, well, he looks fine. He can stand." And she was gone._

_Harry wrapped an arm around his middle protectively and fell onto the bed. He smiled at the army men, but his eyes were angry._

(oOo)

Harry wakes from the nightmare. His cheeks are wet with salty tears and his bottom lip is trembling. Tom sits at the foot of the bed, his fingers on Harry's cheeks, wiping his eyes with a concerned gleam in his eyes.

"Harry?" He asks softly, reaching forward to grasp the younger boy's chin. Harry leans into his touch, burying his face in Tom's chest. His breath is hot on Tom's collarbone, teeth scraping along the skin, accidentally. "I need to see the Dursleys, Tom."

The wavy-haired boy pulls back in surprise. "What? I mean.." He inhales deeply. "Someone has to come with you, what if you – "

"I know. I need to see them, Tom. I'll talk to Cordy - need to.." His words are cut off as his eyes begin to droop again and his breathing slows. Tom shakes his head fondly. "Brilliant boy."

(oOo)

"The Dursleys?" Cordelia's expression is skeptical, her eyes squinted. She scratches the side of her mouth absently thinking the subject over. "I haven't heard anything about them since I left with you."

Peter is at work. His job includes something for the government. He's not so much a politician as a computer specialist within the west wing.

Tom opts to remain silent, standing behind Harry with a frown. "I can't avoid them forever. So I'll drop by and just see how they are, I suppose." He bites his lip. "I won't go alone."

"Noire hardly counts as a physically imposing visitor."

"Not Noire, Tom."

The older boy starts out of his thoughts with furrowed brows. He looks confusedly at Harry and then at the woman. Cordelia just quirks a smile at him knowingly, sending his brain into overdrive. "I'll go."

In the end she cocks her jaw to the side and nods. "You don't need my permission."

Harry snorts and gives her a look that says 'oh really?'.

(oOo)

Knock knock. The sound of the doorknob turning tickles Harry's heart; he's anxious. Aunt Petunia's face has changed, there are wrinkle lines under her eyes and she hasn't plucked her eyebrows lately. She looks from her dead sister's child to his frowning companion in quiet speculation.

Harry's hands are in his pockets and his lips are parted. He gives Tom a weary look before turning back to his aunt. "A-aunt Petunia, I was just wondering how you were?" It came out as more of a question. The bony woman pushes the door all the way open and beckons them inside with her hands. She walks toward the kitchen where she pulls three packets of tea from the spice cabinet. "Tea?"

They both nod at her, Tom with narrowed eyes.

"I suppose I should start at the beginning of the year." Petunia begins in a delicate tone. Harry is gazing at her intensely from his position against the wall. "Vernon, as you know, is a very aggressive man by nature. He was fired from his job at the car company at the beginning of the year and since then has needed something…more from me. Considering you weren't here anymore, to abuse and push around he turned to the second weakest in the family." He can hear the hitch in her breath as she finishes the sentence.

She hands each of them a ceramic mug before taking her own and bringing the rim to her lips. "Dudley and him left some while back. We aren't divorced. Just separated." Her eyes look old.

Harry brings his own mug to his trembling lips, taking a small sip of the plain tea. "D-do you remember the army men, Aunt Petunia?" Saying her name after a statement or question is a habit. She looks surprised at his inquiry before she nods. "I do."

Petunia takes another sip, peering at Tom. "You loved those little things. Dudley never played with them but he'd get so mad whenever you'd play with them. I remember throwing them by your cupboard so you'd find them. But that didn't always turn out so well, did it?"

She seems to have a thought suddenly, lifting her weight off of the counter and rummaging through a drawer. "This came for you about two years ago. I fetched it before Dudley or Vernon could." She hands him a manila envelope with a strange red seal on the back. Tom's eyes widen in recognition. "You're Hogwarts letter."

The thirteen year old boy gazes down at the letter before tearing it open. His eyes roam over the paper, "Dear Mr. Potter…"

He looks up and over at Tom. "They think I'm still here?"

Aunt Petunia shakes her head. "When there was absolutely no reply to the letter they came here looking for you. Vernon told them you'd run away a long time ago. They presumed you were still in Surrey. When that turned out to be off the mark they sent out a search party and then.." She squints to try and remember. "I'm not sure. I think they gave up after a year or two."

His mouth forms an o shape.

(oOo)

"You're positive you want to do this?"

Harry turns to Cordelia with squared shoulders. "I'm sure. Even if I may not like it I am a wizard and I do need to learn about my political stance in the wizarding world." His eyes are wavering. "I don't want to leave you or Peter, but there're some things I'll have to do. Their world won't give up on 'the-boy-who-lived'."

He turns to Tom who shrugs. "I'll rent out a place in Hogsmeade. There's no way I'm letting you and Noire go there alone." When Harry opens his mouth to interrupt, he waves his hand. "I know you can take care of yourself. But I'd rather be close by. Just in case." He doesn't think he could stand being away from Harry that long.

The younger boy bites his bottom lip before looking back at Cordy. "Well, it'll be an adventure." He says, a bit of sarcasm slipping into his tone. There's a tiny smile on his face as she messes up his hair.

"Just don't come back talking about all that wizard stuff." He laughs.

(oOo)

So that ends chapter two. The next one will have Harry on the train to Hogwarts, etc. I'm looking forward to writing it. : D

Sorry to those of you who aren't so into slash. It is not, in any way, the main theme of the fic, so – if you like it so far, please read on.

Bluefire-elemental – Thanks. :3 I don't really care if I get a million reviews or not, so long as some people are liking this fic. There's a helluva lot more to it.

Lord Flamel – Here's the second chapter. Hope you liked this, too.

If you have any questions e-mail me or put the in your review. I'm glad to answer.


	3. footsteps

Author Notes: Okay. I've finally finished typing this chapter up. I'm really sorry for the slow update but I've been really busy with other fanfics (AoW) and the like. This chapter's a bit longer than the others because Harry's finally off to Hogwarts. : D

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

but i don't know, i just don't know

where the dreams go

but i think maybe god does it because he can.

-

footsteps.

-

"Are you sure I can get all of the stuff I need here?" Harry asks Tom, looking at the brick wall in front of him. Tom, who is under a glamour so his hair is blonder and his features duller, laughs. "Yes, for the millionth time. Diagon Alley is probably the only place you can get all of this stuff. Now shove over, kid."

The smaller boy frowns at the nickname and moves aside.

Tom pulls out his wand and taps out a pattern on the bricks. A moment or so later they curl in, divulging a passage into the shopping area. Harry's eyes and mouth are wide. "Wizards aren't as dumb as Cordy thinks." "Mm."

They move quickly, finding the book shop. Tom disappears into a corner, and Harry thinks he's probably falling into nostalgia. He really hopes the glamour isn't permanent, he prefers the old Tom. Shaking his head, he searches through the titles for the books he needs. Once he gathers all of these, he continues to browse aimlessly.

There are a few more books he thinks might be interesting that he takes with him to the counter. Tom appears a bit later, holding three of his own. "Is that everything?" He asks, eyeing the books. Harry nods. "I think so." "Well, are you taking any electives?" He furrows his brows. "Electives?"

"Divination? Ancient Runes? Arithmancy?" Tom inquires, his jaw getting tight.

"Err, no. It didn't say anything about that on the paper from the headmaster." Harry replies quietly, casting his gaze at the floor. Tom sighs. "Alright, you get two electives, I think. Whatever you like, we'll write them down and send them to Dumbledore." The black-haired boy smiles at his companion. "Okay. What do you suggest?"

This could take longer than they'd counted on.

-

Mr. Ollivander gives Harry a strange look as he rings up the wand he's chosen. Harry smiles, he can't wait to tell Tom about the gushing feeling of magic that goes through him when he touches it. He loves being able to feel his magic swirl about around him.

"Curious." The wand maker says idly.

Harry looks at him, tilting his head to the side. "Sorry, sir. What's curious?" The old man leans across the counter, gazing into his eyes. "It's curious that this wand should choose you, Mr. Potter. I do believe it has the same phoenix feather as the wand of a certain Dark Lord."

His eyes grow wide. "That makes sense." He says softly. "Our connection."

Mr. Ollivander hands him his new wand. "The time will come when you grow into your full power. You may just become the leader so many of us are looking for." He nods at Harry. "When that time comes, I have no doubt I'll be seeing you again."

Harry leaves without a single word. His mind does not question this.

-

Harry looks hesitantly at Cordelia. "I-I..."

She gives him a small smile. "Don't miss me too much. I'll be seeing you when it's -_necessary_." Next to her Peter rolls his eyes. "But seriously, it'll be fine. Just send us some letters out here, eh?" 

The dark-haired boy nods. moving forward to bury himself in Cordelia's arms. She squeezes him tightly to her and whispers in his ear, "Tom's got a surprise for you before you're off to join the merry band of wizardry."

He raises his eyebrows, sneaking a glance at Tom out of the corner of his eyes. Peter tugs Harry forward by his sleeve and into an awkward hug. He moves back and says, "I know we haven't known each other very long but uh, you _are_ important to me. Like my long lost little brother."

Harry smiles and moves to stand in front of Tom. "Tom..", he breathes, lowering his head and clutching the other boy's shirt. Tom grasps his hands in his own, lacing their fingers together, making Harry's heart beat erratically. "I won't be too far away, you know.

"I'll be closer than you think." There's a sly undertone to his voice. Harry squints at him, 'What do you mean?"

The older boy gets down on his haunches and gives him a breathtaking grin. "I – or rather Peter and I have - developed a spell to keep an eye on you." "I don't need someone to keep an eye on me-", Harry's interruption is cut off as Tom says, "For my sake. Otherwise I'll go mad sitting in some room alone, twitching with worry as I wait for a letter from you.

"Now," he continues, "About the spell. It requires consent on your part to let me well, be in your head. I'll be able to see and hear through you when I want or need but I don't have access to memories or anything like that. Well, unless you send them to me directly. So, we can kind of talk in your head."

There's no mistaking the shine in Harry's eyes or the delighted way his mouth drops open. "Really?" Tom nods and squeezes his hand. "No need to waste goodbyes on me, Harry."

He looks between Cordy and Tom for a moment and bites his lip. Cordelia is all warmth and quiet observance as he shuffles over to her. She's giving Tom a knowing look that Harry doesn't understand.

Tom ducks his head, brows furrowed.

Shrugging mentally, Harry turns to Cordelia. "I love you." It has almost become a ritual. "I love you, too, mon petit amer. And I, too, have a gift for you." She winks.

"You do?" His cheeks heat up. "Oh, yes." Cordy places a hand on his arm, twiddling her long fingers on his skin. When she pulls back, there's a strange sort of sign there. Harry regards it in surprise. "What's this?" There's a sly smile across her lips. "It's just a mark to let those who are out there know that you are one of my chosen." One last hug for his Reina. 'Thank you." Harry whispers.

He faces the three of them. "Adieu."

"Adieu."

-

The Hogwarts express is full of compartments. He finds an empty one easily and makes himself comfortable next to the glass window, gazing out at the wizard platform. It will be a while before he sees this again.

Noire is curled up around his middle in his usual location. He can hear Tom muttering about there being no empty compartments when he went to Hogwarts. Before he can reply the door slides open.

Three people appear in the doorway. One is tall and lanky with red hair and freckles. Another has bushy brown hair and books clutched to her chest. The last one is short, of average weight with mousy brown hair and a thoughtful look to his round face.

The freckled one grins at Harry, "'ey, mate. D'you mind if we sit here? Everywhere else is pretty full."

He shakes his head, gesturing to the seat across from him. Hogwarts kids, hm. Noire is hissing a little suspiciously. Harry shushes him and faces the three students.

"Oh, right. Sorry, we haven't even introduced ourselves." The bushy-haired girl begins, "I'm Hermione Granger," she points at the redhead, "this is Ron Weasley," and then the round-faced boy, "and this is Neville Longbottom." She gives him a once-over and a curious look, "Excuse me, but who _are_ you? I don't recall seeing you at Hogwarts. Are you a first year?"

Ron is shaking his head and murmuring about know-it-alls and their questions to Neville who giggles softly.

"Um, no. I'm Harry Potter. I'll be joining the fourth years." The trio before him look in between surprised and intrigued. It is Hermione who speaks first, "Are you really? Well, that's a surprise. Where have you been for these past few years?"

Harry stiffens and racks his head for the information he'd come up with on his background. "Well, I was home schooled by my guardian." Tom snorts in his head. 'More like yourself.' He sends Tom a smile. Meanwhile, Ron looks bemused.

"I've never heard of going from home schooling to Hogwarts but alright, Harry. It's wicked you'll be at school with us."

He stirs slightly. "Er, it is? I mean you don't really know me…"

Neville finally speaks in reply to his comment, "Well, most of us Gryffindors are friendly. Or in Ron's case overly friendly." Ignoring Ron's glare, he shrugs at Harry. Hermione just nods. "We'll be glad to welcome you or anyone really to Hogwarts. It's quite an amazing school." Her smile is almost contagious.

Harry finds he's taken an immediate liking to the three of them, Hermione's intellectualism, Ron's playfulness and Neville's quiet awareness.

"Oh, but Harry, are you sure you learned the same things we've learned up to now?" Hermione asks.

He nods, "I've studied a lot about the wizarding world and what it entails but if I can get the specifics from my teachers if I need to." 'As well as nearly everything on earth, including muggle physics which I will _never _understand.' He doesn't bother replying to Tom instead he chooses to mentally roll his eyes and return his attention to Hermione.

She looks delighted. "Really? Have you studied magical theory at all?" He smiles at her enthusiasm and instigates a theory for theory to indulge her. Their conversation lasts for nearly 3/4ths of the ride.

Neville seems interested but not completely sure of the details while Ron decided to have a quick nap. When he wakes up he realizes Harry and Hermione have finally just finished talking about the subject and takes this opportunity to butt in while he has the chance. "So what house do you think you'll be in?"

Harry answers, "I'm not really sure.", honestly.

Ron nods at this. "Yeah, most people aren't. Just pray you don't wind up in Slytherin. Merlin, that house is pure evil. I bet every one of those kids has already pledged their self to the Dark Lord." Tom has a laughing fit while Harry merely looks at Ron.

"That's not true." Hermione interjects. "Ton, that's a bit biased, don't you think?" Neville eyes the redhead in agreement with her. "Every house has a stereotype, Harry." She says, facing him. "We don't really know enough Slytherins to have a concrete opinion. There are a lot of bullies in the house but we've only seen that side of them."

Ron grumbles to himself. Harry says, "I know.", and looks at the window in peace.

-

The trolley lady comes around a while later. Ron gets some droobles and chocolate frog while Neville sticks to a couple of pumpkin pasties. Harry and Hermione pass (Ron shoots them both an incredulous look before starting in on his snacks).

'Why aren't you eating?' Tom questions in a quiet voice.

'I'm not hungry.' He replies, quickly. 'You barely ate any breakfast this morning, you really should eat something.' The older boy is adamant. Harry can see where this conversation is going. 'Tom. I can eat at Hogwarts. There'll be a feast, right?"

There's a long pause where Harry can hear Ron and Hermioen bickering about something or other. Then, 'You'll have desert at Hogwarts?' Recognizing the underlying ice in Tom's tone, he sighs and says yes. Bloody Tom.

-

Hogwarts is a bit bigger than the castle Harry grew up in. But it is no where near as beautifully, even if he finds it impressive. There's no bakery down the street for him to work. He has to see the difference.

After saying goodbye to Ron, who said something along the lines of, "Hope you're in Gryffindor with us!", Neville and Hermione, he joins the crowd of first years by the lake. Hagrid is a big but gentle man that smiles at all of them and explains how to cross the body of water in a gruff voice.

Harry chastises Tom in his head for ever passing blame to the giant.

Noire keeps refusing to go on a boat, but Harry manages to persuade him. Once they arrive a stern professor with a tight bun guides them through the hallways and up a staircase. Her name is professor McGonagle. Tom says he remembers going to school with her. He liked her. Harry keeps this thought filed away in his head for later use and the doors to the Great Hall open.

One by one the first years are sorted. Harry watches the tall black hat deposited on each student's head. Finally, his name is called by a silently respectful and encouraging Professor McGonagle. "Potter, Harry."

He walks up to the stool, wincing at the sound of the students whispering back and forth to one another in hushes voices. On his way he glances up at the faces at the head table. Dumbledore is twinkling in joy and curiosity while a gaunt, black-haired man is glaring at him through narrowed eyes.

'Tom? Who's that?' Tom takes a minute to think. 'Severus Snape. He's a spy for Dumbledore. Voldemort thinks he's a loyal Death Eater, of course. One of his favorites.' Harry nods to himself. 'Snape. Oh, yeah. Aunt Petunia mentioned him. She told me he and my dad never got along. Apparently my dad bullied pretty bad him or something. Well.'

So that's why the man looks so hateful. His eyes move along to two people he recognizes from pictures Aunt Petunia gave him. Remus Lupin, his father's friend who happens to be a werewolf and Sirius Black. Another friend that was recently found innocent of murdering the Potters and released from Azkaban. They both have anxious, glad looks on their faces that make him a bit uncomfortable.

He places the sorting hat on his head and waits patiently. "Mr. Potter. Would you mind dropping your occlumency shields?" The hat's voice says aloud. Harry blushes and drops them a bit to let the hat in. 'There you are. What's this? You've got someone else in your head, did you know?' 'Yes.'

'You did? Interesting. My, my, my you have quite a bit of history to you, don't you? Yes, you are very talented and powerful, cunning but loyal and forgiving. Though, not too forgiving. Intelligent but not boastful.

'After being abused by such a family, I'd imagine so.' He winces at the memories that flood through his head. 'Very brave, indeed. And oh my. You were brought up my the Reina Antanasia? This is…a surprise. No wonder. You seem to have qualities that would suit each house. Right, I'll sort you if you promise me one thing."

Harry blinks, 'Yes?'

'To come visit me in the headmaster's office when you can. There's so much I'd like to discuss with you. An old hat gets bored waiting up there for the next sorting, you know. An you are an interesting creature. If you should ever seek refuge or advice, come straight to me.'

He looks out at all of the confused faces in the crowd wondering what's taking so lojng and he nods visibly. The hat shouts happily, "Excellent! Well, then it'll have to be…

THE FOUR HOUSES."

-

Sorry if that ended on something of a cliff hanger. I've already got the next few parts planned out. It's getting it onto Microsoft Word that's hard for me. I'm not sure if this chapter turned out exactly how I'd have liked it. Oh, well. :/

alwaysariyana – Merci. Interesting was sort of what I was going for. Oh, and yes, to answer your question, there will be elements of Harry/Tom slash in here. It's definitely up there with my favorite pairings, too.

merilynne – Sweet! I've never had a preference with tenses, but the present fits here, hm? Ehh, I know, I know the way I piece bits together is quite terrible (especially considering I don't have a beta). Well, Harry's a tad messed up in the head so the flashback to the Dursleys was somewhat necessary. I tend to go by event then, I form the chapter. There's not much flow, I'm afraid.

petites sorcieres – Your review made me feel glad to continue with this story. I'm glad I've found something of a fan in you. Well, this is like Tom sans the violent madman, isn't it? It will, as I said before be Harry/Tom, or contain bits of it. Harry's 13 now, and Tom hasn't aged from his sixteen year old body, so.. Yeah, Tom's even more upset about that. There are seven horcruxes, Tom's spirit was released from the cup of Hufflepuff. In this alternate universe Dumbledore found it and destroyed it, blah blah blah. Anyhow, thanks. 3

SwiftShadow – I'm happy to entertain.

lastbreathsword – Really? I'm grateful for that, I was so worried people would be wary because Harry's "guardian" is an oc. Cordy's a sly girl, ain't she? As for Harry's characterization, well, he happens to be my favorite character, firstly and secondly, he's very easy to mold personality-wise. This Harry is only this Harry because of the way he grew up. In a way he's a lot like canon Harry, except he's been much more exposed. And he knows a hell of a lot more. :3

doowop – I've already got chapter four planned out. Awesome, eh? But uhh, do you mean help with this? Or AoW? You're confusing me, love. chaptertwo, yeah. Peter is a lovely thing, isn't he? Danke muchly. You're too kind. Well, you know I love Harry, I'd be doing him an injustice by writing badly. But I do need a BETA. Really.


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